Gavranlu – di Edgar Allan Poe (armâneaşti di Toma Enache)

Toma Enache, 19.06.2013, 15:17

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Corbul di Edgar Allan Poe Gavranlu armâneaşti Toma Enache Tu una şcretă laie noapti , arâmas mutream nă carti Minduiam la anveţlu vecl’i ţi a lui noimâ fu ta s-chiară Mi-ancl’inam: ş-avdu cicâtea, tu uşi arada că bâtea; “Vărnu oaspi” -dzăcu- “triţea, s-agudi di uşi afoară Vărnu oaspi vru ta s-intră, mizi ciucuti nafoară”. “S-nu mi-aspar toradioară”. Mea ţănu minti că era, tu Andreu ţângrimi s-fâţea Pirili tu ugeag zghilea şi chilimea u-aumbrară; Aştiptam dzua multu vrutâ ,cărţâli niheam s-agiutâ S-aflu Lenora chirutâ. Steaua-n ţer Lenor fu s-chiară S-anghilii u haidipsescu; Lenor numa nu-ari s-chiară Ma aclo, aoa văroară. Scretsâl’i di pirdadz aroşi di mitasi şi lâhtâroşi Mi astâl’iara pân di oasi , inima n’i-iu aspâreară; Frica s-asgunescu ma ghini dzăşu aşe nâpoi ti mini: “I, văr oaspi-n casa yini; tu uşi i-di-ahăntă oară Caftâ amânatlu oaspi ugeag di ahăntă oară”. “S-nu mi-aspar toradioară”. Loai curai cama cu silâ cătă uşi fără n’ilâ; “Domnule” grii “vahi doamna s-mi l’irtats şidzut nafoară” “Mi-ancl’inam; ş-avdzai ciucutit,cum eram ca adurn’it Vahi mizi voi ciucutit, nu acăţai ta s-bagu oară dzaş că i var agudit”; Dishcl’id uşa ş-bagu oară: “Nâ scutidi ca vărnoară”. Di ciudii ş-aspâreari,mutrii tu scutidea mari Anyisam yisi ţi tu yis alţă oamin’i nu-anyisară. Isihie văr ici nu grea şi scutidea şi ea tâţea; Maş unu zbor io grii atumţea: “Lenor!” – s-avdză prit zboară- Airlu n’i-apândisi tut “Lenor”; ân’i turna a meali zboară. Maş zboară fură afoară. Tu udă mi aveam turnată, heavra mi-avea acâţată S-ahurhi nâpoi ta s-bată, ma salami ş-cama troară. “Siyura s-avdi cum bati, tu firidă pi canati Vrea sa ştiu ţi ari câbati, vrea s-dizleg ciudia troară S-inima vrea ta sâ-ştie; va s-vedu tu aestă oară”: “Vimtu bati ca vărnoară”. Dau canatea dinaparti ş-vedu nâ aripă cum bati S-intră cum amirălu, un gavran lai dit eta di altâoară Ni bună dzua vrea s-dzacă,ni cl’inăciuni ici s-facă Pirifan acaţă s-treacă, cătă ayalmâ diunoară Pi ayalma ali Antini, pi ea şidzu diunăoară. S-sta ca glar toradioară. Mutrita laie şi sertă an’i si parea multu pseftă Ma sumarâşi di anvirinari; -“Lai gavran di altoară”- “Ti cara nu ai cârântari,siyura nu hii ti arcari” “Ti-amintaş dit chisâ s-pari, ama ţi numa-ţ bâgară Tu cratlu di pisa Pluton, ţi numa laie-ţ bâgară?” El apândisi:”Vărnoară”. Pi şcreta âl’i du apandisea; ni hazi ş-ici nu s-uidisea Ma chitrusii căndu avdzâi,un gavran s-dzăcă zboară. Nu s-ari avdzată ici iuva, bana di om sâ ştea ţiva Că pul’i, prici i altuţiva, s-intrâ tu udă aşetsi troară Pi ayalma ali Antini sâ şeadă ahăntu troară Si s-aibă numa: “vărnoară”. Ma gavranlu ca limnusit, unu zbor aleapsi minduit Tuş canda tu aţel zbor cripări ş-suflit s-adunară. Maş unu zbor vru ta sâ spună, vără peană ici nu mină; Căndu un zbor a-meu asună:”Căţ soţ avui tuţ s-chiară? Aşe ş-el; va s-fugă cum nădiili vecl’i arada azbuirară”. Gavranlu dzaţi – “Vărnoară”. Mi lâhtârsi estă ciudie, zborlu cu mintiminie Dzăc: “vahi maş aistu zboru aleadzi di alti zboară; Lu-anviţă nicuchirlu cari avu văr blâstemu mari Si di-ahăntă jali s-pari, vrură vahi ş-dol’ii cântară Cântic ţi maş un iho avea, idyiul iho dol’i cântară”: “Văroară, lele, vărnoară!” Sumarâşi di-ahantă jali ş-trapşu troară altă cali; Dinintea ali uşi pi fotel yisli caplu n’i-angrupară. Minduiam s-acaţ tu pringă, pul’iu lai ca vără strigă Câftam mintea su dishcl’idă gavranlu di altăoară Ti va s-dzăcă şcretu, strâmbu, căndu spuni esti zboară: “Văroara, Cra! Vărnoară”. Gavranlu cu a lui mutrită pân tu suflit mi avea friptă Iuva iuva nu-n’i tâcânea ţi vrea spună ţeali zboară? Mut aşe an’i bâteam caplu ţi s-aibă tu minti draclu; S-arihati n’i-alas caplu, pi fotelu iu s-virsară- Lun’in’li ali lambi -, iu caplu feata ţea ambară Nu va lu aştearnă, vărnoară. Airlu l’ia s-alâxeaşti nâ n’iurizmâ lu minteaşti Câţe candilili tu ţer anghilii li ligânară. “Mârate” -bâgai io boaţi- “Dumidză tea ţâ pitreaţi Yitrii s-bei nacă ţâ treaţi caimolu ti Lenor ma troară” “Bea su-agârşeşti Lenor, bea sâ-tă fugâ dorlu troară!” Dzăsi gavranlu – “Vărnoară”. “Semn arău”, “vombir” io grii – “Cubil’ii”- “gavran i-ţi s-hii” “Dheavulu ică tufanea pi aistu meal ti arcară?” “Tu aistu udă ţi suschiră ţi şcretu şi pondu s-deapiră Iu lâhtarea-i-nicuchiră; ti pâlâcărsescu dză troară S-află Iudeea yitria? Dză maş u-aflu dză ma troară?” Dzaţi gavranlu – “Vărnoară”. “Semn arău”, “vombir”-io grii- “Cubil’i”- “gavran i-ţi s-hii” “Pi ţerlu ţi-i supra, pi Dumidzălu vrut; dză troară Tu Paradis ţi-i naparti, su-stringu tu braţă s-poati, Feata steauă ţi-i aparti, tu ţer sâmtsâl’i u-aflară Di ăl’i grescu tora Lenor; va u-stringu tu braţă vloară !?” Dzăsi gavranlu – “Vărnoară”. “Tel dit soni s-hibă zborlu”. “Fudz tu chisă ţâ-i laolu”. “Tufanea ca blâstem s-ti ducă, tel cu un cicior s-ti chiară S-nu-arâmănă peană scretă di minciuna tauă pseftă; Singur vream ta s-hiu nâ etă”.”Fudz di aoa tu aistă oară”. “L’iats dit cheptu-a-meu dintana, zverca l’iaţ tu-aistă oară”. Dzasi gavranlu -“Vărnoară”. Di-atumţea lailu gavran sta, supra di uşi ş-tora sta Niminat pi-ayalma ali Antini; I-si-aprindu troară Ocl’i di demun ţi au turbată ş-aumbra lui arcată Câdzu dit lambă virsată, pi chilimi damcă s-moară Suflitlu n’i-iu lu-acâţară, damca şcretă va s-lu moară Ti daima ş-ti vărnoară! ____________ The Raven Edgar Allan Poe [First published in 1845] Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. `Tis some visitor, I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door – Only this, and nothing more. Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; – vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow – sorrow for the lost Lenore – For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore – Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating `Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door – Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; – This it is, and nothing more, Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, `Sir, said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you – here I opened wide the door; – Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore! This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, Lenore! Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. `Surely, said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore – Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; – Tis the wind and nothing more! Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door – Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door – Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, `Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou, I said, `art sure no craven. Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore – Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Nights Plutonian shore! Quoth the raven, `Nevermore. Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning – little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door – Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as `Nevermore. But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only, That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered – not a feather then he fluttered – Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before – On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before. Then the bird said, `Nevermore. Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken Doubtless, said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore – Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore Of “Never-nevermore.” But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore – What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking `Nevermore. This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosoms core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushions velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated oer, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating oer, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. `Wretch, I cried, `thy God hath lent thee – by these angels he has sent thee Respite – respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore! Quoth the raven, `Nevermore. `Prophet! said I, `thing of evil! – prophet still, if bird or devil! – Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted – On this home by horror haunted – tell me truly, I implore – Is there – is there balm in Gilead? – tell me – tell me, I implore! Quoth the raven, `Nevermore. `Prophet! said I, `thing of evil! – prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us – by that God we both adore – Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore – Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore? Quoth the raven, `Nevermore. `Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend! I shrieked upstarting – `Get thee back into the tempest and the Nights Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! – quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door! Quoth the raven, `Nevermore. And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demons that is dreaming, And the lamp-light oer him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted – nevermore! Aveţ ma-nghios şi varianta audio a “Gavranlui” di Edgar Allan Poe (pi armâneaşti – Toma Enache)